Why Not? (Love Riddles Book 3)

by Carey Heywood

  Kneeling in front of her, I cup her cheeks. My thumbs brush away tears that begin to spill. “Talk to me.”

  Her chest rises before a sob escapes and she leans forward to bury her face in my neck. “I can’t.”

  Shifting her into my arms, I take her seat and cradle her in my lap. “You can tell me anything.”

  Her face remains in my neck, her tears wet against my skin. “Not this.”

  What the fuck happened?

  She’s freaked about something.

  “Okay. You tell me when you’re ready. For now, I just want you to calm down, or you’ll make yourself sick.”

  Jesus, I was sounding like my mother.

  “Let’s try and take a deep breath, okay?” I coach her through steadying her breathing. Each hitch of her breath makes my gut twist. Her being this upset about something, and not talking to me about it, stings. I’m a detective; it’s second nature to want to solve the mystery. I don’t like not knowing what has her so worked up.

  My hand coasts up and down her back as I hold her in my arms. Whatever is hurting her I’ll fix; I don’t even care what it is at this point.

  Her body softens against mine. My hand continues to move over the soft fabric of her shirt as she drifts off. I’ll move her to her bed but not yet.

  I try to work through different scenarios of what could have upset her this bad. I’m comfortable, and I’ll risk waking her if I get up too soon.

  Did something happen at work or with her brother? She was supposed to be with Kacey earlier. Did she say something to upset her?

  She seemed fine when I texted her. We were going to sleep at my place tonight. What changed between then to now?

  When no answers present themselves, I focus back on Reilly’s sleeping form. I was unprepared for what seeing her so upset would do to me. My eyes move to the clock on her cable box. It’s later than I expected.

  Moving to my feet, I carry her to her bed.

  I’m not surprised to see her bed unmade.

  It makes it easier to tuck her under her covers. She turns to her side and I push her hair back from her face, relieved to see her serene expression. Then I move through her house, checking windows and turning off lights.

  I’ll crash here tonight and try to get her to talk about whatever’s bothering her tomorrow. It’s been a long day. I head to her bathroom and stop cold when I see a pregnancy test on her counter. My hand moves to the doorframe to steady myself.

  Is Reilly pregnant? Is that why she was so upset?

  Wait, Kacey may have been here earlier. Could the test be hers? That doesn’t make sense as to why Reilly would be upset. Unless Kacey being pregnant is a bad thing.

  Moving further into her bathroom, I lower myself to the edge of her tub.

  No, it has to be Reilly.

  Pregnant.

  My throat goes dry, and I reach up to tug at my shirt collar. The test is all I can see. It’s filled not only my vision, but my thoughts as well.

  A baby.

  My baby.

  If she would’ve told me, I probably wouldn’t have believed her. It’s the fact that she didn’t want to tell me that has erased my doubt.

  What do I do with this?

  Jesus.

  I drag my hand over my face. Then I stand and move to her sink. Turning it on, I splash my face with cold water.

  Straightening, I gaze at my reflection. There are two ways I can take this. I can walk right out of Reilly’s house and her life right now, or I can climb into bed with her and stay.

  If I leave, whatever we have is done. If I stay, every part of my life is going to change.

  This is what happens when you get attached. You get tangled up in strings. Though, being tied to Reilly doesn’t terrify me.

  I flip off the light and make my way to her room. Stripping down to my boxers, I grin at the free spot of floor by her bed for my clothes.

  If I hire a cleaning service for my place now, Reilly won’t realize it’s for her benefit. For as much as I crave order, I don’t mind her clutter.

  That being said, a cleaning service would keep the kitchen tidy and her mountains of laundry to a more manageable level. I crawl into bed behind her, fitting my body to hers. Yes, being tied to Reilly Whitmore won’t be bad at all.

  A kid though, that was not something I saw for myself. I saw Reilly’s birth control pills, and I never came in her without a condom.

  That and the fact that Reilly was upset by the news tells me this isn’t some ploy to try and trap me. She wouldn’t have tried to push me away if it was.

  I’ve made one decision tonight, staying. My next decision will come tomorrow morning when I either tell her I saw the test or wait for her to tell me.

  It’s wrong to want to test her. I want her to be honest with me. I don’t want her keeping important things like the fact that she’s carrying my child from me. I’m not going to leave her hanging out to dry. That doesn’t mean I won’t wait to see how she’s going to try and play this in the morning.

  She already attempted avoidance tonight by canceling on me. I hope she doesn’t intend to try and push me away. She’s going to find out real quickly that won’t work.

  My arms tighten around her. I’m not happy about what happened tonight. It’s not that she’s pregnant; it’s the fact that she couldn’t tell me. I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark. Despite this, despite how annoyed I am, it hasn’t changed my opinion of her, or my wanting to be in her space.

  I sleep fitfully.

  When Reilly tries to pull away from me in the morning, I don’t let her. “Where are you going?”

  “The bathroom,” she replies.

  It’d be crazy to stop her or hover, so begrudgingly, I release her.

  She takes for fucking ever. My lack of real sleep has made me irritable. It’s an emotion I recognize, so I mentally attempt to leash it. It wouldn’t serve me well to bite off Reilly’s head before I’ve given her a chance to come clean.

  Impatiently, I try to appear patient as I wait. When she finally returns, I’m struck by the worry that lines her face.

  I sit up, my back to her headboard. “Reilly.”

  She lifts her hand, stopping me. “I need to say something, and I have to do it right now before I lose my nerve.”

  I nod, and she sucks in a breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  She doesn’t say anything after that but stares at me expectantly.

  I motion her my way. “Come here.”

  She’s biting her lip, wringing her hands and her eyes are wet. As soon as she’s close enough, I pull her to me. I’ve never needed this physical connection with a woman before. With Reilly, I need to be touching her or holding her. It’s a compulsion I don’t fully understand. The part that I get is my physical reaction to her. She turns me on to the point of madness. Sexually, I crave her body. The part that is new for me is my desire to comfort her without sex being the reason for it.

  “I figured you were when I saw the test in your bathroom.”

  She’s stiff in my grasp.

  “Is this why you didn’t want to see me last night?” I ask.

  She nods, her teeth still worrying her lip.

  “Why?”

  Looking away, she replies, “I was scared to tell you.”

  “I get that.”

  She looks back at me. “Are you mad?”

  I shake my head and brush her back. She sags with relief.

  “I’ve been freaking out,” she admits.

  “That’s understandable,” I mutter.

  She straightens. “Why are you so calm about this?”

  I shrug. “I’ve had all night to get used to the idea.”

  “And you’re seriously not pissed? You don’t want kids,” she presses.

  “Look,” I reply, shifting her so her weight isn’t all on one leg. “Whether I want kids or not, isn’t going change this. You’re having my baby, Reilly.”

  She gulps before hugging herself. As scary as this is for me, I c
an’t imagine what she’s going through right now. I have it easy, I’ve accepted the fact she’s pregnant. She’s the one whose body is going to change. She’s the one who’s going to have to give birth.

  “It doesn’t feel real yet, like I’m somehow imagining it.”

  I hug her to my chest. “It’s real.”

  She doesn’t fight my hold and relaxes against me. “What now?”

  “We can fly up to Vegas this weekend,” I reply.

  She lifts her head. “To celebrate?”

  I shake mine. “To get married.”

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  I blink not expecting a response other than ‘Great idea, Trip.’ “You’re having my baby,” I repeat.

  She moves off of me to sit next to me on the bed, a decent amount of mattress between us. “And?”

  “And we need to get married,” I answer.

  She lifts her hands in exasperation. “Why?”

  “You okay with having a baby out of wedlock, because I’m not.”

  “People don’t care about that nowadays,” she argues.

  I push up off of the bed and stand next to it. “I care.”

  She drops her head to her hands. “This is too much. I can only freak out about one thing at a time. Please don’t add another.”

  I inhale. “Okay.”

  She lifts her head. “Thank you.”

  Chancing it, I move around the bed and to her side. She doesn’t look away as I cup her face and lower my lips to hers.

  I pull away when I notice she’s crying. “What? What happened? Why are you crying?”

  She covers her face. “I’m relieved and happy, and don’t know how to function without crying at the moment.”

  I bite back an unexpected laugh at how pissed she sounds. Holding the back of her head I pull her to my chest. She drops her hands and presses her forehead to my skin.

  “I have to get ready for work,” she groans.

  “Why not take a sick day?”

  She doesn’t move. “I can’t do that to Gavin.” Then she jerks her head up with a giant grin on her face. “Gavin went on a date last night and he’s going to tell me all about it.”

  She stands and walks to her door to pull her robe from a hook on the back of it.

  “Want company?” I ask.

  She freezes and stares at me. “Is that what you want? To act like nothing has changed?”

  I shrug. “Things have changed, doesn’t mean that everything has to.”

  She doesn’t move, so I do, making my way to her. I circle her with my arms, she drops her robe and it falls to the ground as her arms go around my neck.

  I walk her backward to the bathroom, stripping her as we move. Much later, we’re not only clean, but sated as well.

  I change back into my clothes from yesterday while she gets dressed for work.

  She stops, holding her dress in front of her. “Are you still going to want me when I start showing?”

  My brows come together. “Are you serious?”

  She looks down, suddenly shy. “My body is going to change.”

  “Come here,” I reply.

  She hesitates before stepping toward me, still holding her dress in front of her. I ease it from her grasp and set it on her bed.

  “You think I’m ever going to stop wanting this body?”

  She doesn’t reply.

  I run my hands down her arms and take her hands in mine, wrapping them around me. Then I coil mine around her.

  “I’m not going to ever think anything other than you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and always will be.”

  She gapes up at me.

  Shit. It’s not like I declared my undying love or anything. She is beautiful; being pregnant isn’t going to change that.

  “Now, you going to get ready so you can grill your boy?”

  She jumps out of my arms, and I let her go. Standing back, I watch as she hurriedly dresses. Her excitement is refreshing. It draws me to her. The people who see her on TV don’t get this part of her.

  This part of her is reserved for her closest friends and me. I have experience with fake woman. Her realness is what I’m most attracted to.

  “I need to pick up some crackers on the way to work,” she says more to herself than to me.

  “What?” I ask.

  She turns, motioning to her zipper. “At first, I thought I had a stomach bug. Then, when it wouldn’t go away, I started to worry that I was . . .”

  “Pregnant,” I finish for her, zipping her up.

  She turns and nods. “I’ve been having issues keeping breakfast down. Crackers help.”

  “What kind do you want?” I ask.

  “Huh?” She replies.

  “What kind of crackers?” I repeat.

  When she doesn’t reply, I add, “I can go grab them while you do your makeup.”

  She tilts her head. “You’d do that for me?”

  I look up at the ceiling until she finally answers me.

  “Saltines please.”

  Tipping my chin back down, I kiss her cheek before moving past her.

  On my way to the store, I call my mom.

  “Hello baby,” she greets.

  “Hey Mom. How’re you doing?”

  “Oh Mercury’s position has been messing with my balance, but I’m dealing. I’m glad you called though. Did you get my email?”

  I stroll into the grocery store. “There was a reason I called.”

  “Trip, I need to know if you’re coming or not,” she replies.

  “The woman I’ve been seeing is pregnant,” I counter.

  “Oh Goddess, not again,” she murmurs.

  “Mom,” I warn.

  I grab two boxes off the shelf and move to the register. “Hang on a minute I need to pay for some stuff.”

  “You shouldn’t talk on the phone when you’re at a register,” she argues.

  “Alright Mom. But, hang on.”

  I don’t give her a chance to reply, I set my phone on the counter and pay for the crackers.

  “Thanks,” I say to the cashier before picking my phone back up.

  “Mom?” I ask.

  “Did you put me down?” she shouts.

  “I had to pay. I’m sorry. It was only for a minute.”

  “Why couldn’t you have phoned after you finished paying?” she asks.

  “I was trying to multitask. I needed to pick up some crackers for Reilly. She’s been getting nauseous.”

  “So her name is Reilly?”

  “Mom,” I groan.

  “No, no. It’s nice to find out the name of the woman who’s apparently having my son’s child like this, considering how things went the last time.”

  I flick my eyes skyward. The moment she mentioned Mercury I should have known to wait to tell her anything.

  “It’s nothing like the last time. I was calling to see what your schedule looks like. I want to bring her up to meet you.”

  She sniffles before saying, “I’m verbally spewing negative energy all over your news. I understand why you don’t ever come to see me. I’m a terrible mother.”

  “Mom, you’re not a terrible mother. Stop saying that,” I argue.

  “But, all I do is mess things up.”

  My mom is harmless, but she’s also an overly emotional nut.

  “You don’t. You’re going to like Reilly. Now, go have a cup of tea and meditate,” I calmly order.

  “Do you think Reilly will like me?” she asks.

  My eyes move to the second floor of Reilly’s place as it comes into view. “Of course, she will.”

  “And she’s really pregnant? You’re sure?”

  I gulp. “I am.”

  “Whenever it works for you to bring her up, I’ll make sure I’ll clear my schedule,” she replies, sounding more like herself.

  “Thanks mom,” I say. “I gotta go.”

  “Okay baby. Thanks for calling. It’s good to hear your voice. I love you.”

 
“I love you too,” I reply.

  “Good, now don’t forget to reply to my email.”

  “Mom,” I warn, not wanting to dig up shit.

  “Okay, okay. Call me later. Bye sweetie.”

  “Bye Mom.”

  I end the call and pull open Reilly’s door. She’s waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I don’t care whether she wears makeup or not, but with her job she claims it’s a requirement. It’s crazy how fast she can put it all on. I’ve watched her get ready before, her hands move so fast with those brushes it’s like a blur.

  “You are a godsend,” she murmurs as soon as she sees me.

  I pass her the bag and then turn on my heel to walk out with her.

  “Who were you on the phone with?” she asks as we move down the stairs.

  I glance at her, one brow raised.

  “Oh don’t read anything into it. I’m not going to go all jealous baby mama. I’m a reporter, being curious is in my DNA.”

  I open the main door for her. “It was my mom. She wants to meet you.”

  “I want to hear all about your date. I do. But first, I need to tell you all the shit that happened last night, because it is insane.”

  Gavin glances at me from the driver’s seat. “I’m all ears.”

  I inhale, prepping my lungs for the stream of words about to come out. “I’m pregnant. Kacey and Trip both know, Jake doesn’t. I’m telling him in person tonight. Trip asked me to go to Vegas with him this weekend to get married. I said no. He wasn’t pissed about me getting pregnant. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that. He was sweet last night, and this morning. He got me lots of crackers, and we did it in the shower this morning. Oh, and his mom wants to meet me.”

  During my speech, Gavin looks over at me a couple of times, his eyes growing bigger.

  “That’s a lot to process,” he says, once I’m done.

  “Believe me, I’m still processing it,” I reply.

  “Why’d you say no?” he asks.

  Reaching down, I slide a sleeve of crackers from my purse and open it. “He was only trying to do the right thing.”

  “There’s a reason you called it the right thing, Reilly.”

  “Oh my God,” I snap. “Don’t tell me you’re all anti-children out of wedlock. This isn’t the fifties, Gav.”

  “You’re telling me as a little girl you didn’t want your mom and dad with you more than anything?”